


Wingspan

by yafan92



Series: The High Lord, High Lady, and Spymaster [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yafan92/pseuds/yafan92
Summary: Set a few months after the events of A Court of Frost and Starlight, Mor has finally confessed her true feelings to Azriel and he's been moping for weeks. With the rest of their family spread across Prythian, Feyre decides she and Rhys are perfect for the task of cheering him up.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Azriel/Rhysand
Series: The High Lord, High Lady, and Spymaster [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901665
Comments: 30
Kudos: 159





	1. Feyre

**Author's Note:**

> This is not related at all to my other ACOTAR story - they are totally independent and meant as kind of alternate takes on how Feyre could have taken Rhys up on his offer from the High Lords' meeting.

_“I’m worried about Azriel,”_ I said to my mate over breakfast, using our mental connection so there was no chance of being overheard. _“He’s barely spent any time with us, and I don’t think he’s eating.”_

 _“He’ll be fine,”_ came Rhys’s reply. _“He’s over 500 years old, after all. He’s been through worse.”_

 _“But he’s been in love with Mor almost that long,”_ I countered, sipping my tea. _“And with Cassian and Nesta off in those gods-forsaken mountains, Elain with Lucien on some couples retreat, and Amren in Adriata for the weekend, he doesn’t really have anyone else to be with except us.”_

It had been two weeks since Mor broke his heart, confessing to him that she had always preferred women and could never love him the way he wanted her to, and then went off to the continent to keep an eye on the human Queens. Although I knew he was keeping busy, he was even more quiet and reserved than usual, and spending most of his time alone. 

This train of thought broke off as the shadowsinger finally entered the dining room, barely nodding a hello before putting a single piece of toast and scoop of melon on his plate. “Tea?” I asked, holding up the pot before he could turn to leave and eat elsewhere.

He froze for a moment, shadows twining around his form as though trying to hide him from view, then nodded again and slid into the chair next to me. I could feel Rhys studying him from across the table as I poured him a cup and dropped in a lump of sugar. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, his scarred hands gently taking the cup from mine. I watched him take a sip and begin to eat before looking back toward Rhys. I pretended not to catalogue every bite he took as I made a face at my mate.

 _“Well, you might be right,”_ Rhys admitted down the bond. _“I haven’t seen him like this in centuries.”_

 _“So what do we do?”_ I asked. _“How do we help him?”_

Rhys was silent for a moment, sipping from his own cup, so I turned to the male beside me.

“Any plans for today, Az?” I asked lightly.

He grunted noncommittally, which I took to mean “No.”

 _“Maybe he needs a rebound,”_ I sent to Rhys, who hid his smile in a bite of his own toast.

 _“Feyre, darling, I think the last thing he needs is you meddling in his love life.”_ I heard the laughter in his voice as he added, _“Or, for that matter, a random hookup.”_

 _“It doesn’t have to be a random hookup,”_ I retorted. _“In fact, I think it should be with someone who loves him.”_

 _“And who would that be, Feyre?_ ” Rhys asked drily. _“In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t exactly have a surplus of those around the house these days.”_

 _“Well, we’re right here,”_ I challenged. 

Rhys choked, unable to hide his surprise, and nearly spat his mouthful of tea across the table. Azriel finally looked up from his plate, shooting a suspicious glare between us.

“You know, if you were just going to talk without me I didn’t have to stay,” he deadpanned. 

I grinned at him, at this first spark of his personality I had seen in days. “Sorry Az,” I replied, “You didn’t seem like you really wanted to talk to us.”

He rolled his eyes at me, but got up to take a second helping of fruit. When his back was turned, Rhys shot me an incredulous glare and I heard his voice again in my head. 

_“Are you implying that we invite Azriel back to our bedroom?”_

I shrugged at him, reaching for the pot to pour Azriel another cup of tea as he retook his seat.

 _“I seem to remember you asking me if I wanted to join the three of you in the birchin last solstice,”_ I reminded him. _“And I also seem to remember that he has the largest wingspan.”_

Rhys's eyes sparkled with challenge at that, but I continued. _"And don't think I've forgotten you teasing me about being worshipped by two males at once. Why not with someone we both trust implicitly and who won't be annoying about it?"_

"I can smell you, you know," Azriel interjected, making us both jump and look at him guiltily. His lips twitched at our reactions, hazel eyes momentarily lit with amusement. "It's clear that I’m intruding,” he continued, pushing his chair back and turning to leave.

“Actually, we were talking about you, Az,” Rhys cut in smoothly.

Azriel slowly turned back to face us, nostrils flaring as he fixed us both with a disbelieving stare. He quirked an eyebrow but otherwise made no move, either to leave or reclaim his chair.

“Feyre was suggesting that you might need to move on in a physical sense,” Rhys continued with a little smirk. Azriel’s eyes shot to mine, both eyebrows now climbing their way up his forehead. I winked at him, and saw a delicate blush creep up his high cheekbones. “She was admiring your wingspan and hoping you’d be interested in joining us this evening.” 

Azriel was in a full flush now, but flared his wings slightly as he turned and met Rhys’s gaze. His shadows swirled, as though trying to detect a lie or trick, and Rhys’s smirk widened as I heard his voice once again in my mind.

 _“He’s in,”_ he drawled. “He likes red,” he added aloud, and I grinned as well as I caught the meaning behind his words. Az dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, steadying breath as though reconsidering every decision he had ever made. It was enough to pull me out of my chair to lay a comforting hand on his forearm. 

“I’m glad,” I murmured quietly, but I knew they both could hear me. Azriel lifted his head, and my breath caught as I saw the desire darkening his eyes as they scanned my face. “I’ll wear something red,” I quipped with another smirk as I brushed past him and out the door. Azriel’s groan and Rhys’s answering laughter followed me all the way down the hall to my painting studio. 

* * *

An hour later, I threw down my brush in frustration and stormed into Rhys's office. He had the nerve to look innocently startled by my presence, as though he hadn't spent the better part of the last 60 minutes asking if I wanted him to send me mental pictures of Az naked. "Why Feyre, darling," he purred, setting aside the document he had been reading, "what a lovely surprise."

"Don't pretend you've been in here working," I hissed, stomping over to his chair. "So because you can't focus, I don't get to focus either?"

He grinned as he grabbed my hips and pulled me toward him, nuzzling into my neck. "I admit that I could be the tiniest bit distracted," he whispered against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. 

"Yes, I'm sure Azriel naked is a very distracting thought," I shot back, even as my arms wrapped around his shoulders. I stood in his embrace for a moment before continuing. "You didn't bully him after I left, did you?"

"Well, maybe just a bit," he confessed unapologetically. "And I may have told him you like to be called 'High Lady' in bed."

I drew back, outraged, and' he took one look at my face and burst out laughing. "Only joking, Feyre," he reassured, "but I wouldn't mind if he did." His violet eyes twinkled with mischief.

"You're terrible," I scolded, trying but failing to keep a straight face. "Now he's probably rethinking the whole idea."

"He is doing no such thing," Rhys countered, still grinning. "If you and I hadn't been mates, I probably would have had to fight both of my brothers for you. I had to send him on a bullshit errand that would take a few hours just so he didn't start undressing at the breakfast table."

I shook my head at him disbelievingly. "Honestly, you Illyrians," I began, but stopped as a thought occurred to me. I cocked my head, and Rhys raised an eyebrow in encouragement. "Are you going to have your wings out tonight?" I asked.

Rhys pulled me back in, settling me on his lap before humming against my shoulder. "It might be difficult to have two full grown males with wings in one bed," he admitted. 

"What, are you afraid of a direct size comparison?" I teased, which earned me a pinch on the hip. "Besides," I continued, "between the two of you we could get into some pretty interesting positions."

"Well, if that's what my High Lady wants..." he trailed off suggestively, giving me another smirk. 

"It's settled then," I said decisively. "Now are you going to leave me alone or do I have to shield for the rest of the day?"

 _"Cruel, beautiful High Lady,"_ I heard down the bond, accompanied by a flash of sculpted, tattooed chest that did not belong to my mate and a dark chuckle.

I slammed down my shields and picked myself up from Rhys's lap, grabbing a stack of papers off the desk as I passed it on the way to an armchair near the door. "There, now you have even less to focus on," I said as I sat, turning to the first document and pointedly burying my face in it. Rhys laughed again, but turned back to the pile on his desk without further comment.

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly, despite the anticipation and excitement gnawing away at my attention. Between the two of us, Rhys and I managed to finish the entire pile of paperwork, mostly requests from our citizens but a few reports and correspondences from our friends in our neighboring Courts. There was no word from Cassian or Mor, but I tried not to let the worry for my family sink in - we had just heard from them the week before. 

Azriel still hadn’t returned from his "task" by dinner, so Rhys and I ate alone before retiring to our rooms. I heard him give Nuala and Cerridwen the evening off as we passed the kitchens, and my cheeks flamed as they thanked him with knowing giggles. 

Neither of us spoke as we reached our bedroom, but once inside I grabbed my favorite red lacy lingerie and headed to the washroom. “I’m going to take a bath,” I called over my shoulder, shedding my sweater and loose pants as I went. 

“Let me know if you need help washing anything,” came Rhys’s reply, his voice full of sensual amusement.

“You know, I did manage to bathe myself before I met you,” I shot back, and shut the door on his soft chuckle. Wrapping my hair up into a braid to keep it from getting wet, I slipped into the warm water with a sigh. I may have spent a few extra minutes scrubbing every inch of my body, my fingers lingering over my breasts and the insides of my thighs as I imagined the two sets of large, calloused hands that would soon be brushing against my skin. 

When the bath water started to grow cool, I stepped out and toweled off, slipping on first the lacy underwear followed by the sheer top which did absolutely nothing to hide my figure. Although Azriel had seen just about everything during that first trip to the Court of Nightmares, I still found myself feeling slightly self-conscious as I brushed out my hair and swept it over one shoulder. Finally ready, I pushed open the door to head back into the bedroom. 

My heart lurched as I realized Az had already joined us, looking as though he had just finished a bath of his own. He and Rhys were sitting in low-backed chairs by the fireplace, conversing in hushed tones as they both spread their wings toward the warmth of the flames. I almost ducked back into the bathroom, feeling severely underdressed, when they both turned, and the raw desire I saw in both handsome faces had me moving toward them. I noted Azriel’s gaze taking in the not-quite-opaque lace covering my breasts and flitting down to my bare legs, and I may have swished my hips a little extra as I crossed the room.

When I finally approached, Rhys pulled me onto his lap, a possessive hand around my waist, and poured me a glass of the amber liquid they were both drinking. I knocked back half of it in one go, earning me a quick, wry grin from Az and a gentle squeeze from Rhys, before setting aside the glass and turning to face the shadowsinger fully. “So,” I teased, raising an eyebrow “you like red?” 

Az didn’t smile as I met his darkened gaze, but I felt a shadow briefly curl its way up one of my legs. “It suits you,” he said simply, and I was the one who looked away first, my face growing warm. 

“Well I think you’re both overdressed,” I said, turning to Rhys. With a wink, his shirt vanished, and I couldn’t help the hand I ran down his muscled chest. 

“Now you, Az,” Rhys ordered, and I didnt even try to hide my blatant ogling as Azriel rose to his feet and began unbuttoning the flaps at the back of his shirt before sliding it off. With a start, I noticed that his siphons were missing; even though I had seen him shirtless countless times during training, those blue gems always glinted on the backs of his hands. He seemed more exposed somehow, even though he was still wearing pants, and I moved over to straddle his lap as he sat back down. 

Although clearly taken aback by my boldness, he only hesitated a moment before his hands came to rest on my thighs, his thumbs making small circles against my skin as I traced the lines of his tattoos running over his shoulders. I felt, rather than heard, his breath catch as my fingers drifted farther back, barely grazing the thin membrane of his wings, and I gave him a predatory grin as I shifted my hips against the hardness now beneath me. 

Rhys barked a laugh at his friend’s discomfort, then stood and walked over to the bed, trailing a finger across my shoulders on his way. I turned to watch him slide off his pants and underwear then settle comfortably on the bed, his wings tucked neatly beneath him. Azriel took advantage of my distraction to place a soft, tentative kiss at the hollow of my throat, causing my back to arch in invitation. My mate’s hungry gaze locked onto my face as I felt Az work his way up my neck, and my eyes fluttered closed when he gave a gentle nip at my earlobe. 

I heard Rhys’s low growl from across the room, which Azriel took as his cue to stand, sliding his hands down to grip my backside as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carefully set me down on the bed next to Rhys, before finishing undressing and sliding in next to me. I pressed my ass into my mate as I threw a leg over Azriel’s, pulling him in closer. I felt Rhys slip a hand around to palm my breast as his mouth found the same spot Azriel’s had just been, and I wrapped a hand in Az’s still-damp hair and pulled his lips to mine. 

The first kiss was slow and exploring, but when I nipped at his bottom lip he quickly deepened it. I felt him run a hand from my navel down to the lacy top of my underwear, his touch light but insistent, and let out a small whimper when he dropped it between my legs. The lace did nothing to hide my arousal from him, and I groaned when he firmly pressed his thumb to my apex. 

Rhys’s movements became rougher as well, his kisses turning to bites as his hand on my breast began pinching and twisting the nipple into a stiff peak. The lace in his way, he simply vanished my top, and the feel of his callouses against my smooth skin had me letting out another small moan into Azriel’s mouth. I felt Az smirk, so slid my hand from his soft hair down to stroke along the top edge of his wing. It was my turn to grin when he hissed, and he retaliated by shoving aside the lace against his fingers and slipping one into my slick folds. 

I threw my head back at the sudden intrusion, unable to help a gasp of pleasure, then another groan as he quickly added a second finger. His thumb continued circling as he met my gaze and set a slow, steady pace with his fingers. 

_“Talented, isn’t he?”_ I heard Rhys whisper into my mind. I felt his length between the globes of my ass as I ground my hips into Azriel’s fingers. _“I suppose he has had 5 centuries to practice. I hope he’d have picked up a few tricks over the years.”_

With Azriel’s hand between my legs and Rhys murmuring filthy nothings down the bond, my breathing quickly turned ragged as I felt my climax building. I dug my fingers into Az’s muscled shoulder as he again claimed my mouth with his, ever so slightly increasing the pace and pressure of his fingers. When Rhys gave my nipple an especially hard pinch, I plummeted over the cliff, moaning loudly as a wave of pleasure crashed over me. Both of them continued their ministrations until my shudders subsided, Azriel pulling his face away to give me a cocky, satisfied smile. 

He carefully withdrew his fingers, but before he could move further Rhys dropped his hand from my breast to grab Az’s wrist. He pulled the shadowsinger’s hand up so he could lick his fingers clean, and hazel eyes met violet ones over my shoulder. 

_“I will never,_ never _tire of the taste of you, Feyre darling,”_ he said to me as he allowed Azriel to regain the use of his hand. 

I took the opportunity to wriggle out from between them and stand at the edge of the bed. Aware of my audience, I teasingly pulled my underwear down and cast it aside. When I turned back to face them, I paused to survey the two gorgeous males lying before me, wings slightly flared and both of them at full attention. I allowed a wicked grin to creep up my face as I looked suggestively back and forth at them, hands on my hips, but just as I opened my mouth to speak, Rhys interjected.

"Whatever you're about to say, Feyre darling," he drawled, "please keep in mind my sensitive ego." 

Azriel whipped his head to stare at Rhys, then back to me, understanding dawning on his face as he allowed his wings to unfurl a little more and his lips to twitch. Evidently, his shadows had informed him of the time that Mor and I had giggled over relative wing sizes. I rolled my eyes, muttered a curse about Illyrian babies, then crawled back on the bed toward them. I pushed Rhys over onto his back, pinning him beneath me with his wings splayed. Gingerly I ran a fingernail down the membrane of his wing, and smirked when I felt his hardness twitch against my thigh. 

_"Your ego isn't the only part of you that's sensitive,"_ I quipped, before moving my hands to either side of his head and giving him a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue tangled with mine as he reached for my waist to position me over him. 

The bed shifted as Azriel settled himself behind me, running his fingers lightly up the back of my bent legs. His hands continued their exploration up my back and around to my breasts as Rhys thrust into me, and I leaned back into the hard planes of Azriel's chest, arms snaking up and around his neck as Rhys began to move. 

I was so intent on watching the expressions of pleasure Rhys was making that I barely noticed when Azriel removed a hand to grab something that had just materialized next to him. When Rhys shifted his attention over my shoulder I tried to look at it out of the corner of my eye, but then Azriel was untwining my hands from his neck and pushing me forward so I was on my elbows, chest-to-chest with my mate. I heard a pop, like a bottle uncorking, then Rhys's hands were on my ass, squeezing and lightly spreading. 

I leaned my head down to kiss him, but abruptly halted when I felt Az's oiled finger poking at my rear entrance. My eyes rolled back as he added a second and gently twisted them around, stretching me out. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever felt, and I let out a long, low moan. I managed to open my eyes to find Rhys watching me, his violet eyes glittering. I did kiss him then, desperately and between pants, as I felt Az brace his other hand on my low back and remove his fingers.

Rhys stopped thrusting, and I once again heard his voice in my head. _"Look at me, Feyre. I want to watch your face when he enters you."_

I shook my head against his neck, unable to open my eyes as I felt Az position himself against me, but I pulled Rhys down the bond and into my mind to experience it. It was agony as Azriel pushed in, but he allowed me ample time to adjust and by the time he was fully sheathed I thought I might pass out from the sheer pleasure of it. Rhys groaned and began a slow, steady pace again, with Azriel matching his strokes so they were thrusting in tandem. 

I whined, almost beyond conscious thought as pressure began building again in my core. "Az," I managed to hiss between my teeth, "his left wing. Same spot as me." Although his touches had always been purely clinical while he was teaching me to fly, I knew Azriel had catalogued the gritted teeth and tensed muscles every time his hands flitted over my inner left wing at the first joint. 

_"You wicked creature,"_ Rhys chided, as Az leaned over, pressing his chest to my back, and stroked his right hand down Rhys's wing. His other hand dipped between my legs, and I felt his lips curl up against my back as my mate and I let out matching moans. He gave Rhys another caress, causing his hips to buck wildly. I felt him withdraw from my mind as he tried to hold out, but a third touch from Azriel had him roaring his release. 

Azriel kept his controlled rhythm with both his thrusts and hand, and seconds later I was following my mate into climax. Only then did he increase his pace, panting against the back of my neck as his strokes became erratic. A small grunt was the only sound he made as he came, his whole body stiffening against my back. 

I collapsed fully onto Rhys as Azriel slowed, shaking with the effort of continuing to hold himself up. I felt bereft as he pulled out and padded away, but he was back a moment later with a warm, damp cloth. He carefully wiped down my back before rolling me off of Rhys, then, when I made no indication of moving, cleaned my stomach and thighs as well. 

_"Of course he would be both well-endowed and generous,"_ I groused to Rhys as he returned the washcloth to the bathroom, both of us watching as he hesitantly reapproached the bed. I knew Rhys relayed the message when Az flicked his hazel eyes to mine, giving me a deep, mocking bow before sitting back on the bed with a small smirk. 

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it go to your head," I grumbled aloud. Azriel's grin widened, his shadows for once nowhere to be seen, and I pulled him back to lie down next to me. I felt Rhys's arm wrap around me from the other side, and I sighed in contentment as I snuggled between them.

 _"Give me half an hour,"_ I ordered Rhys, _"then we're doing that again, but with the two of you switching places."_

I heard the chuckle in his voice as his reply came down the bond. _"Oh, definitely, Feyre darling. I owe both of you for that little trick with my wing."_


	2. Azriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the story of the same day, but from Azriel's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, bonus chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Azriel knew he was moping, and that everyone could tell, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care enough to hide it. He hadn’t expected Mor’s confession to hurt as much as it did; he knew, of course, that she didn’t love him the way he loved her, but the hope that she someday would had carried him for centuries. Which was why, for the last two weeks, he had been avoiding his family. As much as he loved them, he couldn’t bear to spend so much time around happy couples, watching them exchange loving glances, casual touches, and secret smiles.

Keeping up with his network of spies provided plenty of excuses to be absent from Rhys and Feyre’s riverside estate anyway; there were always the other courts to keep an eye on, not to mention the various Illyrian camps where Cassian was now attempting to quell unrest. Azriel was in constant communication with his brother, keeping him updated on the latest developments. At least, Azriel thought a bit unkindly, Cassian was probably even worse off in the romance department than himself. He shuddered at the thought of trying to woo the eldest Archeron sister. Despite her loveliness, she was more trouble than she was worth in his opinion.

Today, as fate would have it, he was alone with just Feyre and Rhys, the others off doing “couple activities” for the weekend. Azriel groaned as he looked at the clock; it was getting late in the morning and he had skipped all but one meal yesterday, but his shadows informed him that the pair was still in the dining room. He supposed he could have breakfast sent up, but didn’t want to inconvenience Nuala and Cerridwen or have Feyre and Rhys think he was avoiding them. _Even if you are,_ said a small voice in his head. Maybe he could grab a plate of food, say hello, and then return to his own room? He did have several new reports to read, he reasoned. Keeping the Night Court safe from enemies near and far was more than a full-time job. With this plan of action firmly in place, he swept quietly from his room and down the hall.

As his shadows had warned him, his High Lord and High Lady were seated at the table, finishing up their own meals. Azriel nodded to them before grabbing a plate and piling on a few things from the platter nearest to him, hardly paying attention to the food in his desperation to leave and return to his wallowing. Before he could, however, Feyre spoke up.

“Tea?” she asked, gesturing with a pot of the bitter liquid. Azriel froze, torn between wanting to leave and not wanting to be outright rude to Feyre, who was looking at him with concern. His shadows betrayed his indecision as he hesitated a moment longer, before courtesy won out and he dropped into the chair next to her.

She poured him a generous cup and added a lump of sugar, just the way he liked it, before passing it over to him. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking a large bite of what seemed to be plain toast as he took a sip. He noticed Feyre watching him out of the corner of her eye while trying to seem as though she wasn’t, and despite himself Azriel felt a small surge of affection for the female beside him who was clearly worried about his wellbeing.

“Any plans for today, Az?” she asked brightly, facing him again as he took another chunk out of his toast.

He grunted noncommittally, then felt slightly guilty about his brusque behavior. Feyre and Rhys were his friends, as close as family, and he knew they were worried about him and his recent heartbreak. Feyre especially tried so hard to make everyone happy, so he resolved to make more of an effort to be pleasant. Before he could say anything else, however, Rhys choked on a mouthful of tea and began coughing. Startled, Azriel looked up to see him gaping at his mate, who was struggling to keep her face straight.

Deducing that they must have been engaged in one of their many silent conversations, he immediately felt any trace of guilt about his earlier silence disappear. “You know, if you were just going to talk without me I didn’t have to stay,” he said drily, finishing the last bite on his plate and rising to leave.

“Sorry Az,” Feyre said with a grin, “you didn’t seem like you really wanted to talk to us.” Her tone was light and teasing, but he heard the hint of concern in it anyway. So instead of turning to the door, he refilled his plate with fruit and slid back into his chair.

Feyre and Rhys seemed to have resumed their silent conversation, as Feyre shrugged as she poured him a second cup of tea. Rather than feeling left out, however, Azriel was content to sit in companionable silence as they finished whatever it was they had been discussing. Although, judging by their scents, he had a pretty good idea.

“I can smell you, you know,” he said as their arousal permeated the room, making his own pulse quicken slightly. He was gratified to see them both start and look at him with twin guilty expressions. He almost laughed aloud, even as he sighed internally and pushed back from the table to leave them to it. “It’s clear that I’m intruding.”

“Actually, we were talking about you, Az,” Rhys said as Azriel turned to leave the room.

 _Unlikely,_ he thought, even as he froze in surprise and turned back around to study them. He quickly flicked his gaze between Rhys and Feyre, raising an eyebrow as he waited for an additional explanation.

“Feyre was suggesting that you might need to move on in a physical sense,” Rhys continued, with a smirk that he knew from long experience meant trouble. Azriel looked to Feyre for confirmation, then felt a flush creeping up his face as she winked at him. “She was admiring your wingspan and hoping you’d be interested in joining us this evening.” Rhys looked positively delighted to have dropped this hornet’s nest into the conversation, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“ _You can’t be serious,”_ Azriel thought loudly as he dropped his mental shields. Of course he found Feyre attractive: she was objectively beautiful. And he loved her, as he loved the rest of his family. But never had the possibility of being with her crossed his mind; it was clear from that first dinner that Rhys was head-over-heels for her and he had never pursued the same female as either of his brothers.

 _“We’re perfectly serious,”_ came Rhys’s reply as the two males stared at each other. _“Besides,”_ he continued, _“it would hardly be our first time in bed together, would it?”_

Azriel laughed mirthlessly in his mind. _“We’ve never been in bed together with your_ mate, _over whom you are besotted and insanely protective,”_ he countered.

He heard Rhys’s answering chuckle. _“We are well past the protective stage,”_ he said dismissively, _“but you are correct that I am besotted. And therefore will do anything to make her happy, including inviting you to our bed.”_

 _“So this is all Feyre’s idea?”_ Azriel challenged, his shadows swirling around him.

 _“Well, I may have suggested previously that she might enjoy the experience of being worshipped by two males,”_ Rhys admitted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Azriel tried hard not to imagine how Feyre would look between them, two sets of large hands skimming her creamy skin, but Rhys, entrenched in his mind as he was, felt the moment Azriel relented.

His grin widened as he looked briefly to Feyre, then said aloud, “He likes red.” Feyre looked confused for a moment, then gave a feline smirk of her own as she caught his meaning.

 _“Bastard,”_ Azriel thought venomously, but Rhys only laughed again in his mind.

 _“You’ll thank me later,”_ he said before retreating fully, leaving Azriel questioning his own judgment as his cheeks flamed once again. He hid his face in his hands, willing his shadows around him, but stopped when he felt a small hand on his forearm.

“I’m glad,” Feyre said quietly, and he looked up to meet her eyes, which were darker than usual as the scent of her arousal became stronger. Azriel couldn’t help the stirring of his own desire as he took in her nearness, her scent almost overpowering him, and his gaze dropped briefly to her mouth before finding hers again. “I’ll wear something red,” she added, her expression turning wicked as she brushed past him and out the door.

Azriel groaned. He was well and truly fucked. Rhys’s answering laughter told him he knew it too, and they both turned to watch Feyre saunter down the hall away from them. Azriel shook his head, but Rhys’s voice stopped him before he could escape the dining room as well.

“A few things, Az,” he said, suddenly serious. “First, you’re going to go straight to Madja and get a contraceptive brew.”

Azriel whipped around to face his High Lord, whose features were now frozen into an uncompromising mask. He nodded quickly; although pregnancies were rare for Fae, it would be just his luck to impregnate his friend’s mate. Rhys noted his acceptance with a nod of his own as he continued. “Second, and this goes without saying, but you are not to tell anyone about this.”

Azriel almost laughed at that, but the serious expression on Rhys’s face held him back. Of course he wouldn’t tell anyone - not that there was anyone to tell anyway. Azriel’s circle of friends began and ended with his family, and he had never gossiped to them about his love life before and certainly wasn’t about to start. “Of course,” he stated, echoing his earlier thought.

“Good,” Rhys replied. “Finally, and most importantly, I want to emphasize that this is about Feyre’s pleasure. If she feels uncomfortable with anything at all, or if she changes her mind, or if you don’t treat her with the level of gentleness and care she deserves, I will personally throw you out on your ass. Understood?”

Azriel was almost offended that Rhys thought so little of him as to give him this last warning, but he saw the strain in the set of Rhys’s jaw and the small tendrils of darkness that were leaking out of his iron control, and realized that perhaps his friend was not so far past the overprotective stage as he liked to think. So he nodded again, searching for words that would reassure him. “Rhys, the pleasure of my partner is always the most important thing to me,” he said. “And if you or Feyre change your mind at any point, of course I will respect that. I would never betray your trust that way.”

Rhys nodded and relaxed a fraction, finishing his cup of tea before fixing Azriel with a wicked grin to match the one Feyre had given him earlier. “Well then, you’re in for a treat,” he said. “Wait until you see the outfit she’s picked out.” Azriel casually flipped him off as he strode for the door again, rolling his eyes even as desire shot through his body again. Rhys caught it, his nostrils flaring as he called after him. “Maybe you should fly a few patrol laps around the city, Az,” he teased. “Wouldn’t want you coming in too excited and leaving my lady disappointed.” Azriel raised his hand higher, not choosing to dignify that comment with a response as he wrapped his shadows around him and vanished.

He reappeared outside the building Madja used as her office and apothecary, her collection of medicinal plants and herbs spilling onto the sidewalk from her front garden. The elderly healer looked up in alarm as he entered, her gaze scanning him for any visible injuries. He gave her a small smile as he walked forward, shaking his head slightly. “Just a contraceptive for me today, please,” he said by way of greeting, and she visibly relaxed as she reached for a vial behind the counter.

“Well, I have to say this is a nice change of pace from the usual near-fatal injuries,” she joked, placing the small bottle in his hand. His smile widened as he reached for a handful of coins.

“That’s certainly still a possibility, depending on how things go,” he replied, earning a chuckle from the female as he paid for the tonic. “Thank you, as always, Madja.” She gave him a knowing wink before he turned and left the shop, where he stood in the street and downed the small bottle in one gulp.

Feeling suddenly restless, he decided that perhaps a flight around the city wouldn’t be a bad idea, and he launched himself into the sky and angled toward the Sidra. As he flew, his thoughts returned to the silent conversation he’d had with Rhys at the dining table.

No, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he had shared a bed, or a female, with Rhys, but the last time had been over a century ago, before Amarantha had even been a rumor brought to him by his spies. How lonely they had both been that time, tired of putting forth the effort for meaningless conquests just to satisfy a physical urge. They turned to each other, as they had so many times, looking for connection. Rhys knew him better than anyone, knew that he preferred an emotional attachment to his partners, even one rooted in friendship rather than romantic love.

 _I suppose that’s what this is too,_ Azriel thought to himself wryly. Rhys, and now Feyre, were dear to him, and regardless of their physical beauty he wouldn’t have accepted their invitation if they weren’t. _But the way Feyre looked at you, the way her scent strengthened when you accepted,_ another, smaller voice in his head asserted, _If all she wanted was a male body, she wouldn’t have chosen you._ Azriel wasn’t sure where this voice came from, but he was grateful for it all the same.

He continued his flight for much of the afternoon, alternately talking himself out of and back into joining Rhys and Feyre in between brief stops to check on a few of his sources around the city. By early evening he was famished, but unsure whether he could face the pair at the dinner table, so he ate at Sevenda’s, who seemed glad to see him if a little confused that he was alone. He was grateful for her kind, unobtrusive attention, and before long had finished eating and was flying back to the river house.

When he arrived, he went straight to his bedroom, stripping off his leathers and sinking into a warm bath. His shadows told him that Rhys and Feyre were just finishing their dinner, and Nuala and Cerridwen were leaving. He lingered a little longer than usual in the tub, scrubbing every inch of his body, including his wings, meticulously. He dried and dressed quickly in a loose shirt and pants, leaving his Siphons sitting on his bedside table. Decisively, before he lost his nerve, he strode from his room and crossed the spacious home to Rhys and Feyre's private quarters.

Rhys called for him to enter before he even knocked on the closed door, and he stepped into their bedroom for the first time. The High Lord was seated in a low-backed chair in front of the fire, a whiskey decanter on the table next to him. Azriel looked around, taking in the large bed in the center of the room, the tasteful decor, and the plush carpeting underfoot, but not seeing Feyre.

"She's in the bathroom," Rhys said in answer to his unspoken question. "Come have a drink."

Azriel complied, settling into the chair next to Rhys and accepting the glass he was offered. With a start, he noticed that Rhys's wings were out behind him; in all the times they had been together before, even that first time back in the Illyrian camp, Rhys had always vanished his wings, never truly comfortable enough to be vulnerable in that way. Azriel raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of the amber liquid in his hand. "I know your bed is big, but you don't think two pairs of wings is a little much?" he asked.

Rhys merely shrugged. "I suggested as much to Feyre, but she insisted," he replied.

Azriel chuckled and gave him a wicked smile of his own. "Well, maybe after all this time I can finally figure out where your sensitive spots are," he teased. "It would only be fair after all the torment you’ve put me through."

Rhys returned his grin, but before he could utter the response no doubt poised on the tip of his tongue, the bathroom door opened and the scent of floral soap mixed with Feyre's arousal wafted into the room. They both turned to face the doorway, and Azriel was struck dumb by the vision before him.

True to her promise at breakfast, Feyre was clad in red: sheer lace covered her breasts and sex, but kept hardly anything from view. Azriel’s mouth went dry as she sashayed across the room toward them, her long legs practically glowing in the firelight. She stopped next to her mate, who pulled her into his lap in a gesture that was pure possessiveness. Azriel tore his gaze away from her long enough to shoot Rhys an annoyed glance, which the other male ignored as he poured Feyre a drink. She drank half of it in one gulp, and Azriel was pleased to find that perhaps he wasn’t the only one nervous about how the rest of the evening might proceed.

“So,” Feyre drawled, arching an eyebrow. “You like red?”

 _That’s a bit of an understatement,_ thought Azriel as one of his shadows, unbidden, wound its way around her leg before he noticed and mastered himself. “It suits you,” he managed, and was rewarded with a small blush as she turned back to Rhys.

“Well, I think you’re both overdressed,” she stated. Almost before she had finished speaking Rhys was vanishing his shirt with a wink, and Feyre ran an appreciative hand down his chest.

“Now you, Az,” Rhys ordered, and Azriel had to fight back an eye roll as he stood. Of course, he couldn’t just make his clothes disappear, but he quickly unbuttoned the flaps of his shirt to pull it off. He felt Feyre’s gaze like a physical touch, watching as the muscles of his stomach rippled with the movement. If he took longer than absolutely necessary discarding the garment, basking in her appreciative attention, well, Rhys didn’t call him on it, at least.

As Azriel retook his seat, he was shocked when Feyre abandoned Rhys to straddle his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hesitantly, he placed his hands on her bare thighs, focusing on not being overwhelmed by her nearness and scent as she began to trace the lines of his tattoos across his shoulders and chest. Her exploration continued farther back, brushing over the membranes of his wings, and he gasped slightly as his concentration went out the window entirely when she did it again. He was now unable to hide the evidence of his arousal, which Feyre noticed with a wicked grin and shift of her hips.

He must have looked as uncomfortable as he felt, as Rhys laughed and strode over to the bed. _“She’s merciless, isn’t she?”_ he asked mentally, and Azriel silently agreed. She had turned to watch her mate cross the room, leaving the sweeping curve of her neck right at Azriel’s eye level, so he took advantage of her position to drop a feather-light kiss at her throat. Her gasp and the arching of her back encouraged him to continue, so he ran his lips all the way up her neck, pulling her earlobe lightly between his teeth.

Rhys let loose a possessive growl from where he sprawled on the bed, and Azriel grinned to himself. _Prick,_ he thought, but only after he had double-checked his mental shields. Unwilling to test Rhys’s patience this early in the evening, he gripped the back of Feyre’s thighs tighter and stood, walking over to deposit her on the bed next to her mate. He quickly shucked off his pants and underwear and laid facing her, with Rhys at her back.

Azriel was prepared to go slowly, but Feyre surprised him again by throwing a leg across his hips and twining her fingers in his hair to pull his mouth to hers. He eagerly accepted the kiss, willing to let her set the pace, but when she bit down on his lower lip his restraint snapped. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, urging them to open, which they did almost instantly. As he explored her mouth, he ran a brazen hand down her torso to the lacy underwear she wore, pausing only a moment before dipping it between her legs. It was a struggle not to moan aloud as he felt how ready she was, even with the fabric acting as a barrier between his fingers and her skin. He pressed his thumb firmly against her and was delighted when she let out a low groan of pleasure.

He continued teasing her, rubbing small, tight circles over the lace she wore, and was dimly aware when Rhys vanished her top and brought a hand around to cup her breast as his mouth busied itself at her neck. Azriel couldn’t help a small smirk of satisfaction when Feyre moaned again at a particularly rough motion of his fingers, but she quickly retaliated by sliding one hand from his hair to the top edge of his wing. He hissed, in both pleasure and annoyance, and decided that two could play at that game.

Without warning, he shoved aside the lace under his hand and slid one, then another finger directly into her, causing her to break their kiss as she threw back her head in pleasure. He continued circling his thumb around her apex as he set a languid pace with his fingers, sliding in and out of her at a speed designed to drive her crazy. His efforts were rewarded with a variety of delightful gasps and groans as her breathing slowly turned ragged. When Feyre made a particularly delicious noise, he felt Rhys tapping at his mental shields. _“That sound means she’s close,”_ Rhys said as Azriel let him in, and the shadowsinger recaptured her mouth with his as he increased his efforts with his hand to send her over the edge.

With a shudder and a loud moan, Feyre found her release, and Azriel eagerly swallowed the noise as he worked her through her climax. When her breathing evened out, Azriel pulled back to give her a satisfied smirk, pleased that he had been able to bring her to her peak so quickly. He withdrew his hand as well, intending to taste the evidence of her pleasure, but was stopped by Rhys grabbing his wrist and capturing his fingers in his own mouth.

Azriel met his friend’s gaze over Feyre’s shoulder, giving him an annoyed look. _“Really?”_ he asked mentally. _“I do all the work and_ you _get the reward?”_

Rhys’s eyes glittered as he responded. _“Yes, it’s my prerogative as High Lord. Maybe next time,”_ he continued, and Azriel barely registered that there was a possibility of a next time before Rhys was swirling his tongue around a finger, reminding him vividly of _other_ things his mouth was capable of. Violet eyes winked at hazel ones as Rhys released Azriel’s fingers, and Azriel felt himself grow even harder as he rolled slightly onto his back.

Feyre, seemingly recovered enough to continue, wiggled out from between them to stand at the foot of the bed. Both Rhys and Azriel watched intently as she slowly slid the lace underwear down her legs, running her hands over swaths of smooth skin all the way down to her ankles. She silently surveyed the two males before her, looking back and forth between them as she placed her hands on her hips and a wicked smile crept up her face.

“Whatever you’re about to say, Feyre darling, please keep in mind my sensitive ego,” Rhys said suddenly, startling Azriel into looking over to his friend. Rhys was looking slightly embarrassed, and dropped his gaze to Azriel’s lap briefly before meeting his eyes again. “ _Oh,”_ Azriel thought to him, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from twitching as he faced Feyre again, “ _I already knew I had the largest wingspan.”_

 _“Shut up, Az”_ Rhys snapped, but without any heat, even as Feyre muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Illyrian babies” and rejoined them on the bed. She straddled her mate, who unfurled his wings as he settled on his back, granting her access to run her fingers down their membranes. Rhys positioned himself at her entrance, pushing into her as she leaned down to capture his mouth with hers. Azriel shifted to kneel behind her, running his hands up the back of her legs and around to her breasts, palming them for the first time as he pulled her upright to settle her back against his chest. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck as he pinched and rolled her nipples, his attention torn between the soft flesh in his hands and the ecstasy on Rhys’s face as his friend set a slow rhythm with his hips.

Azriel was fully content to participate in this way, working both of his partners to their releases, however a small object materialized next to him on the bed just as he heard Rhys’s voice in his head once more. _“I promised her two males at once, Az,”_ he said, _“so you’d better start participating.”_ Azriel picked up the object to find it was a bottle of scented oil, and he caught Rhys’s meaning instantly.

Gently, Azriel unwound Feyre’s arms from his neck and pushed her forward so she was chest-to-chest with her mate. He uncorked the bottle, spreading some of the oil along his own length before thoroughly coating two of his fingers. He looked down to see Rhys gripping Feyre’s ass, and wasted no time placing one of his well-oiled fingers at her rear entrance and pushing in. She gasped at the intrusion, and Rhys slowed his thrusting to allow her to adjust to this new sensation. Azriel slowly added his second finger, drawing out a long moan as he swirled both fingers around to make sure she was fully lubricated. Feyre writhed as he gently stretched her, removing his fingers only when Rhys ceased moving altogether.

Taking Rhys’s stillness as his cue, Azriel lined himself up with Feyre and began pushing in. He advanced gradually, not only wanting to be gentle for her but also trying desperately not to finish immediately as her muscles clenched violently around him. When he had sheathed himself fully he stopped, waiting for either Rhys or Feyre to take the lead.

With a groan, Rhys began moving again, long, slow strokes meant to prolong his pleasure. Azriel matched his pace so they both thrust into Feyre simultaneously, causing her to whimper and writhe between them. “Az,” she gritted out, “his left wing. Same spot as me.”

Rhys’s eyes widened in alarm as he met Azriel’s gaze. _“Don’t you dare,”_ he warned mentally, but Azriel gave him a wicked grin as he reached forward to find the spot Feyre had indicated.

 _“Or what, you’ll throw me out on my ass?”_ he countered, slipping his other hand between Feyre’s legs. His grin widened as both of his lovers moaned, their careful rhythm faltering as Rhys’s hips bucked of their own accord.

 _“Damn you,”_ Rhys hissed as the shadowsinger stroked him again, and Azriel felt his own climax building as his friend shouted his release. He focused his attention on Feyre, determined not to break until she found pleasure a second time, and was relieved when, moments later, she too cried out in ecstasy. Bringing both hands to her hips, Azriel allowed his carefully-controlled pace to quicken, breathing hard against the back of Feyre’s neck as he finally succumbed with a small grunt to the coaxing of her still-clenching muscles around his length.

All three of them lay there for a moment, Azriel careful not to crush Feyre by collapsing on top of her fully, and as soon as he was capable of conscious thought he rolled off and headed to the bathroom. He was gratified to hear a small noise of regret as he disappeared, and quickly located a small washcloth that he soaked with warm water before returning to the bedroom. Neither Feyre nor Rhys had moved, so he wiped the combination of their sweat and fluids from Feyre’s back before gently turning her over to wipe down her front as well. Rhys, he decided, was on his own.

Returning to the bathroom, he quickly cleaned himself off before tossing the washcloth into the sink and heading back to the other room once more. He hesitated as he looked down at the bed, the two people to whom it belonged already twined together, and felt his earlier awkwardness return. Should he stay? Should he go? Rhys interrupted this internal debate with another tap in his mind.

 _“You’re going to make me look bad if you keep taking better care of my mate than I do,”_ he groused, and Azriel flashed Feyre a quick look before dropping into a deep, sardonic bow.

 _“At your service, High Lord,”_ he quipped, a self-satisfied smirk settling on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” Feyre interjected aloud, and Azriel’s smile widened as she pulled him down onto the bed and tucked his head under her chin.

 _“I hope you’re ready for round two,”_ Rhys warned. _“She’s insatiable.”_

Azriel snuggled closer, wrapping one arm across Feyre to trail lightly along Rhys’s arm. _“I hope_ you’re _ready,”_ he countered, _“especially now that I know it only takes a couple of touches to make you finish faster than an overexcited teenager.”_

Rhys bared his teeth over Feyre’s shoulder, but the ferocity he intended was undercut by the haze of lust already clouding his violet eyes. Azriel smirked again, pleased to have found a place, however temporarily, it seemed like he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was entirely self-indulgent, and I promise the next installment of this series will be back to your regularly-scheduled Feyre-centric smut. Even though nobody asked for this chapter, I hope you all like it anyway!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I almost wrote this from Azriel's perspective before I chickened out and decided to do Feyre's, but may revisit the idea if it's something people would want to read!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The High Lord, High Lady, and Shadowsinger (tribute)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144896) by [HisAndHisAlone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisAndHisAlone/pseuds/HisAndHisAlone)




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